Back From the Dead....and Unreasonsably Spiteful

Oye loyal minions,

If you're reading this right now, The Baron is pleased.

If not The Baron is vomiting 4-8 helpings of Kentucky Bourbon into his bathtub and shrieking at the cat to stop judging him....more so.

The Baron figured he'd let you in on the secret of his mysterious multi month absence.

You see, The Baron was searching for the elusive Northwest Passage in a large junk rigged scow manned by Asian lady sailors and several talking dogs.

The passage you ask? Exquisite.

The company? Accommodating....hehehe, oh my were they accommodating for such small frames.....

The Dogs? Hilarious at first and then increasingly tiresome...The Baron can only listen to so many red rocket jokes before he gets erect....err sick of it.

The Baron has been driving a lot because of his new responsibilities and thus has developed some new insanely heated dislikes. Today he would like to talk to you about a special topic...fucking assmasters looking for a parking space during rush hour.

Picture this, you're driving home trying to make a series of mind bendingly poorly timed stop lights. If you make this next signal, you'll be home in 5 minutes. If you miss it, the frustratingly dick-fucked Boston traffic system will grind you into a shit soaked ball extruding you some 30 minutes later.

You're 200 feet away, the light has 20 seconds more to go, you're going to make...A fucking korean piece of shit coupe slides lazily out of the supermarket parking lot and accelerates to 7 miles an hour. You slam on the brakes and begin veering from side to side like an edgy NASCAR driver during a decapitation related warning flag.

You can see the fuckbag within scanning the curb, vainly searching for a parking spot after having driven less than 20 feet from their point of origination. Your teeth sink into the steering wheel in a murderous flap. The cloak of civility you've pulled over the savage ape within begins to slip.

The light turns red.

Feces spray from your engorged, multicolored corn into a waiting palm. You wildly swing the vehicle around the doddering cumbag and hurl the stink log through the open driver's side window surely infecting the occupant with Hep A in the process.

Because of your high fiber diet, the lawyers consider this assault with a deadly weapon. Your corn experiences 8-10 years of back filling as you sob.

See what The Baron means? These people are a fucking menace and should be drowned in their shitty 1984 civics and VW rabbits.

What say you?